


I've been waiting for you, and you for me

by Shmisw



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, Singing, Songwriting, Stardom, mentions of drug use, mentions of threesomes, well potential threesomes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 17:26:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16877115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shmisw/pseuds/Shmisw
Summary: Stuck in a writer's block, Rose convinces Rey to attend a songwriting seminar. She's paired with a man dressed in black named Kylo Ren and before they know it, they're writing music in a way Rey's never experience before. It's out of body, it's out past the universe. It's fate.*loosely (okay, more than loosely) based off the band Civil Wars, crossed with a Star is Born crossed with Reylo crossed with can these two just please get their stuff together and bang already?!





	I've been waiting for you, and you for me

**Author's Note:**

> HI! me again, starting another fic and one that I hope doesn't get drowned in the writers block that's probably going to happen but dammit, I have hope!
> 
> This has been an idea of mine for awhile. I'm a huge fan of the Civil Wars and always seemed to listen to them while daydreaming about Reylo (I'm a huge herd, I know. Trust me, I know.) and this just kinda snow-balled out of no where after watching A Star is Born. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy. xo

For as long as she could remember, Rey was always told she had piano fingers.  Long, nimble and able to stretch out to hit all the right keys.

 

“A blessing.” She can still remember Maz saying, as she took Rey to her first piano lesson, watching with pure pride while Rey stumbled her way through her first set of keys, swearing up and down later that she did in fact hear Rey play ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.’ When, deep down, Rey knew it sounded nothing like it.

 

Yes, she had piano fingers, and by all means, they should have helped her when she first picked up the guitar. Instead, they cramped from the positions of certain chords (she really had no idea how she was going to stretch them to play some of the chords) and they ached from the coarse metal of the strings (she wondered: could she bleed from playing the guitar?)

 

“Rubbish.” Rey mumbles under her breath, pulling her hand away from the neck of the guitar and leaning back into her couch, the guitar balancing on her lap, her right hand still supporting the body. She suddenly wishes her piano was here and not at Maz’s, just so she could play it and confirm to herself that she does know how to play an instrument and that the guitar has not defeated her.

 

“Oh, now don’t be sad Peanut!” Finn, her roommate, announces from the kitchen where he stood, peeling bananas for their smoothies he’d promise to make. “Just because you’re the queen of piano doesn’t mean you won’t be queen of the guitar. It just wouldn’t be fair if you were able to pick that up so quick!”

 

Rey looked over to Finn and shook her head. “I’m beginning to remember why I only picked this thing up once and set it down to collect dust.”

 

Finn smiled and started placing the bananas into the blender. He walked to the fridge to pull out the almond milk. “Just keep practicing, and don’t throw it out the window. Hey! I can still ask Poe to teach you?”

 

“Finn, just because Poe knows how to play Wonderwall doesn’t qualify him to teach me how to play the guitar.”

 

“Oh really? And what can you play?” Finn asked, bringing a hand to his hip and the other on the blender.

 

“Well-”

 

The blender comes to life as Finn presses the starter button down, a pearly grin on his face. Rey rolls her eyes and moves to place the guitar back on its stand that’s tucked between their ratty couch (“A steal Rey, a steal! They just had it sitting in the alley!” Finn exclaimed) and the corner of the room. 

 

She moved to walk into their kitchen, if one would really call it that. It was more of a nook, an extra bit of space that their landlord could squeeze a fridge and stove in and call it a day.

 

The blender stopped whirling and Finn removed it from it’s base, filling the two glasses beside it. “Just say the word Peanut, and I’ll tell him to come over earlier.”

 

He placed the jug back down on the counter and grabbed his own glass. “Besides, he may only know Wonderwall, but it’s a start.”

 

Rey smirked, “I suppose even the greats start with Wonderwall.”

 

“Right!” Finn held his glass out to Rey, who brought hers over to his to clink together.

 

Both took a swig of their respectful glasses and both immediately brought the glasses back down, cheeks full as they both went running for the sink to spit it out.

 

“Did you check the date?” Rey asked once the contents had left her mouth, her face crumpled in disgust from the after taste.

 

Finn, wiping his sleeve along his mouth, walked back over the almond milk to inspect. “Uh, yeah, let’s be better at throwing shit out, k? Also, can you google if you can get sick from three months expired almond milk?”

 

*

 

 Turns out, you could potentially get sick from expired almond milk, along with mild cramping. Thankfully, for Rey, the mild cramping was the only side-affect. 

 

“You sure you’re okay?”

 

Rey nodded, hand rubbing her lower abdomen. “I’m fine Rose, just don’t be alarmed if my stomach makes noises that resemble a baby whale calling for his mum.”

 

“What a treat! Just make sure to use the customer bathroom if you need to run, k?”

 

Rey made a face, “I’ll be sure.” She replied, voice dry.

 

After the gag-inducing smoothie incident, Rey had to run out the door to work. She had barely made it to her bus stop, hair falling out of her bun, before she realized her stomach was off. 

 

She’d asked Rose, her friend and co-worker, for some sort of relief as soon as she walked into the coffee shop the Tico sisters inherited from their parents, Drip by Drip. It was an older building, brick along the exterior, bringing in a wall of brick on one side and large floor to ceiling windows on the other. 

 

The interior was rustic, hard wood tables, chairs that the sisters had replaced from various thrift stores, each with different fabric and designs. Art from local artists hung on the walls, some for sale and some Paige would not sell if God himself offered a price. 

 

The best part? (in Rey’s humbled opinion of course) The small 6 x 4 scuffed up wooden stage and the black microphone stand at the front. Despite the small squeeze, it held many of artists who either sang their hearts out every Thursday on Open Mic night or passionately read their poems one Sunday evening a month. 

 

It wasn’t exactly Rey’s dream job, but it paid the bills, she got to hang out with one of her best friends, and be in an environment that encouraged music and creativity that her soul so yearned for. 

 

“Finn told me you’re learning the guitar now.”

 

Rey had moved over the espresso machine, wiping it down with a white cloth that smelled of bleach and lemon oil. She shrugged, “Learning is a bit of a stretch. I’ve picked it up twice this week.”

 

Rose smiled from the front register. “Well, who knows, if you pick it up a bit more you can serenade us again with something on a Thursday!”

 

“I work every Thursday, Rose.”

 

“See! You’ll already be here then.” 

 

“Well, lucky me I suppose.” Rey ran the cloth along the front of the machine once more and turned to look at Rose.  “The way this writer’s block is going, I don’t think I’ll ever sing again. Unless I learn the guitar and learn top 40 hits that I could convert to indie acoustic hits.”

 

“Oh perfect, my very own live Spotify playlist, in the flesh!” 

 

Rey laughed, “See? It’s perfect.”

 

“Very hard to argue.” Rose turned back around to the register, pressing random buttons that cleared her to another screen. “I take it you haven’t written anything new then?”

 

Chewing her bottom lip, Rey turned back to the machine, suddenly interested in an invisible spot at the front. “‘Fraid not, it’s like this big black cloud that just suddenly appears when I’m sitting at my piano, playing Mary Had A Little Lamb for the 500th time.”

 

Rose began to hum the first few seconds of Mary Had a Little Lamb before nodding. “Okay, I can see how fast that can get annoying.”

 

“I know, trust me. I’m sure Finn knows too, its a wonder the man even comes home. Between Mary and well, with, you know, all the amazing tantric sex he invited you to join in on that he won’t shut up about.” 

 

Rey could feel Rose blush from where she stood, a smug look on her face while she looked at her friend’s shoulders freeze. “His boyfriend mentioned it too.”

 

“Rey!” Rose whirled back to face her, “What if my sister hears you?”

 

Rey rolled her eyes, and placed a hand on her hip. “You mean the sister that isn’t here? That’s out picking up inventory for the workplace that she’s not at right now.”

 

“Still! There are some things I don’t need her to hear. Especially about my invitation on a three-some with two wildly attractive gay men.. And I can’t believe he even told you that!” 

 

Rey broke into laughter, “Really? You’re surprised that the man who told us, quite vividly, about his first time with his boyfriend?”

 

Rose’s face flushed. “Yeah, okay, you’re right. But still! Did he at least tell you I declined?”

 

Rey sighed, “Yes, he was quite dramatic about it too.”

 

It was Rose’s turn to roll her eyes. “Yes, he acted like it was the be all end all of everything. Just because we made out a few times before he met Poe.”

 

Rose had it bad for Finn when they first met her on campus. The tension between the two was thick and Rey thought for sure they would end up sleeping together and married within the next two years, but then Finn met Poe in his History and Arts class and if she had thought the tension between Finn and Rose was thick, she’d thought the tension between Finn and Poe was unbearable. She could barely breathe being in the same room with them, almost wanting to lock them in a room alone herself just so they’d get it out of their system.

 

And boy, did they get it out of their system.  Sometimes loudly, and others time louder.

 

“You can’t blame the boy Rose, have you looked at yourself?” Rey asked.

 

Rose flushed again, “Flattery won’t get you a raise Rey!”

 

Rey laughed, “I’m aware of that! If it did, I’m positive I’d be making at least double.”

 

Rose shook her head, “Let’s get back to the topic. Why haven’t you written anything lately? Is it work? Are you too busy?”

 

“No, it’s not work. I don’t know,” Rey sighed, “I think I’m just in this rut and nothing is changing it. It’s like I’m stuck and no matter how hard I try, it won’t start.”

 

“Sounds rough. Have you thought about attending one of those song writing seminars?”

 

“No, that’s for fancy people who get paid to write songs.”   
  


“Oh yeah? And how do you think they end up getting paid?” Rose tilted her head, “By writing songs!”

 

“Don’t you have to pay for those?” Rey asked, crinkling her nose at the idea of spending some of her savings on something that wasn’t necessary. Didn’t these exist online?

 

“Who cares? We can chip it in as a bonus.” Rose replied, bringing a hand to her hip. “And don’t you dare say no, we owe you big time. Remember that time our taps went and you were able to fix them? Or that other time when the espresso maker blew during finals? You saved us.”

 

Rey shook her head, “Rose, I can’t let you pay for it. I fixed those because I love you and Paige and wasn’t expecting payment. I love Drip! She has to run smoothly for my life to run smoothly. My life ends and starts with this place.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Your life ends and starts with music and if music isn’t happening for you then who’s to say what will happen? What if you get depressed? Hole yourself up in your apartment and don’t bother coming into work, and then I’m stuck here by myself on a crazy Thursday, feeding and taking care of a bunch of young people here to sit at open mic, and then they all leave and I’m stuck cleaning and what if, while I’m cleaning, the espresso machine breaks again and I’m stuck trying to clean that up too and-”

 

“Alright! Alright, will you stop if I tell you I’ll think about it?” Rey asked, throwing her hands up. 

 

Rose smiled, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

 

“No, you’ll take it as a maybe.”

 

“What happens after when the water from the espresso machine leaks into the flooring and I’m stuck having to replace all of the-”

 

“Rose!”

 

*

 

Of course Rey knew that when she told Rose she’d think about it that she would just end up doing it. 

 

There was a ticket waiting for her in her cubby the next day at work. It listed the name of the seminar, location, phone number and her name, Rey Niima, scribbled on the bottom. Rey sighed, tucking it into her purse before sending Rose a slew of texts before, finally, just thanking her.

 

She then finds out Rose had given her the weekend off, begging Rey not to stress out about missing a couple days of work (“You do know you have paid vacation days, right?!”) Rose even goes as far as offering to drive her to the place Saturday morning.

 

Rey declines, a bundle of nerves already at the thought of attending and opening up in front of strangers. 

 

Music was her personal passion. Yes, she had taken up the mic on more than one occasion at Drip during their open mics, but she always had Finn, or Rose, or Maz or even Poe now, sitting there to help anchor her throughout the performance.

 

Yes, she performed in front of others, and that was one thing, but to sit and  _ write _ in front of others? Well, that was a completely different beast.

 

Writing was personal, it was therapeutic in a way no licensed doctor could ever be . It helped heal her, writing out the pain from her abandonment as a young child, helped her grieve when she found out the truth of her parents and how they died. Writing about addiction had helped her, in a weird weird way, understand it. 

 

Writing was private, and to potentially do it in public scared her shitless.

 

But here she sits now, prepared to bare open her soul in a sad desperate attempt to get the flow back. It was strange in a way, her last resort for her inspiration was to do something that terrified her.

 

The room she’s sitting is is filled without about 10 others, all from different walks of life. Some sit in stiff suits, others in flowy dresses, and some wearing barely anything at all. Each expressing themselves in their own way.

 

Rey doesn’t feel exactly left out, sitting in her chair wearing her black jeans with holes on the knees. Her converse shoes have seen better days and her olive jacket, a steal at the local Goodwill a few seasons ago, covered her white t-shirt underneath.  

 

Her hair is up in style she hasn’t done in eons, three buns that her foster mom, Maz, used to tie in a hurry while getting her ready for school. Rey’s not sure why of all days she’s decided to do it this way, maybe for luck or maybe for nostalgia, her hands seemed to have had a mind of their own, and before she knew it, they were there. She briefly considered taking a selfie of her updo to send to Maz, before the door swung open to her left and another man walks in.

 

He’s tall. Very, very tall. And pale, Rey notices. He’s dressed in all black, black slacks, a black shirt and a black coat. He’s carrying a guitar case in his left hand and a coffee in the other. He stops a few steps in front of Rey and looks around, most likely looking for a free seat. He spots one at the end of the room, squeezing himself between the long-dreads man and another lady with grey hair.

 

He must feel her eyes follow him, for as soon as he sits down, his gaze catches hers. Rey freezes, he’s handsome in a way that shouldn’t be handsome. His nose is large, but somehow fits his face, his lips are big and look soft, and he has dark moles in certain places. And his hair, oh God, his hair. He could be a model.

 

It takes Rey’s brain far too long to realize that she’s been staring at the poor bloke. Her neck gets hot when she breaks her gaze.  _ Good god Rey,  _ she thinks to herself,  _ get ahold of yourself. _

 

She begins bouncing her left leg, a nervous tick she’d done her entire life, while she waits. It’s almost another 5 minutes before the door opens again and woman with pastel purple hair and dressed in a burgundy two-piece suit walks in. She’s holding a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the  other. 

 

The woman looks around the room, taking in all the eclectic faces that stare back at her. A smile bursts on her face when she looks down towards the tall man and she gives a small nod before looking at the rest of the room.

 

“Alright, great! Sorry for the wait there, hand to get a couple last minute things in order.” She brings the clipboard up with pen. “My name is Amilyn Holdo and I’ll be your go to this weekend 

 

“The point of this is to allow us writers to express ourselves in a way we may not have done before. Now, I know some of you are professional writers that do this for a living, but I also know that some of you do this as a hobby. Please note that you all are welcomed here and we’re here to learn from each other. I hope, if anything, you find some sort of inspiration when you walk out of those doors.” 

 

Amilyn begins walking around the room, taking in everyone’s faces before she ends up at the end of the room, standing next to the tall man. “I think introductions would be a great place to start. Why don’t we start with you?”

 

She’s looking down to the tall man, who makes a face. Amilyn nods to him again, giving him a small smile, as if that would coax him to begin.

 

The tall man looks away from Amilyn and towards the group. He clears his throat before speaking, “Hello. I, uh, I’m Kylo Ren. I’m a singer-songwriter, not really here by choice, but here we are. Uh.. pleased to meet everyone?” Kylo nods his head when he’s done, clearly not wanting to continue on anymore.

 

His voice is deep, soothing in a way. Rey wonders what sort of lyrics he writes and what his singing voice sounds like. 

 

It’s not long before it’s her turn to introduce herself. 

 

“Hello,” She says nodding in to her left. “I’m Rey, I write songs. Er, well I did write songs. It's been awhile. I’ve been in a sort of a funk lately and I’m really hoping being here will get the juices flowing again and I can get back on track. Pleasure to meet you all and looking forward to working with some of you.”

 

She leaves out how desperate she feels when she can’t write and how she really really hopes this seminar will help her. 

 

Amilyn is nodding as the last person finishes up their introduction. “Great, that was great. Thank you everyone! Now I think I’ll introduce my background. I’m a songwriter, and I’ve been doing it my entire life. I ended up here in Coruscant with nothing but my father’s old jeep and dreams. I ended up meeting a dear friend in a hotel and before we knew it, we were teaming up and writing songs together..”

 

She goes on to explain how she ended up writing songs for her friend, Leia Organa’s debut album, that ended up winning some grammys, and even ended up working with Leia’s music group, Resistance, that she and her twin brother, Luke Skywalker, co-lined.  

 

Rey can’t believe she’s sitting in the presences of a woman who had won  _ awards _ for her writing, let alone a woman who made her  _ living  _ off writing. And she  _ knew _ Leia Organa?! Like knew-knew her, breathed the same air as her.

 

_ Oh god, she knows Han freaking Solo _ . Rey thinks to herself in a panic.  _ I’m breathing the same air as the woman who has worked with Han Solo.  _

 

Amilyn continues on, expressing a time in her life where she felt lost. Writing was always her go-to and when it went away? Well it was one of the worst things to happen to her (“I don’t want to sound too dramatic, but I honestly felt like I was dying. That special part of me, that light, had dimmed, and I was so lost.”)

 

_ Yes, that it. _ Rey realizes,  _ I’m lost. Just like she was. _

 

Rey isn’t aware her eyes have watered until a fat tear blinks out of her left eye. She quickly brings her hand up to wipe it, hoping no one else has noticed.

 

Too late, she can feel his gaze on her. She meets Kylo Ren’s gaze from the other side of the room and he has this sort of sad look on his face, as if he understands  _ why _ she’s crying. 

 

She breaks away from his gaze,  _ ridiculous. _

 

“Alright, so I know this is a lot to take on in the first day, but I really think we should get writing. Now, I know we’ve just met, but I’ve always found that I wrote better with a stranger. Hell, Leia and I wrote ‘To The Stars’ within 2 hours of knowing each other.” 

 

‘To The Stars’ ended up winning song of the year in 1978’s grammys. She says it as if it’s not a big deal. 

 

“So, I’ve already gone ahead and paired you up before coming in,” Amilyn raises the clipboard. “We’ve rented out a few different rooms throughout the building. So please, come take a peek to see who you’ve been paired with and what room you’re in and we’ll get started.”

 

Rey stands up with everyone else and walks over to Amilyn with a group of people. She finds herself lining up behind a couple of people, the nerves in her stomach beginning to take flight.

 

Amilyn is all smiles when its Rey’s turn to stand in front of her. She passes Rey a sheet of paper that has her name in the top left corner and another just below. 

 

Kylo Ren.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Phew! that felt good to post. I haven't had a chance to send this over to anyone to take a boo to fix any mistakes- so they're all miiiiiine. 
> 
> Also, I've never touched a piano before in my life and cannot read music, so if that shows during this fic, I'm sorry! Just remember it's all make-believe and fun!


End file.
